“Bet I can be ready in fifteen minutes,” Rose Anna said.
“I can make it ten,” her mudder told her.
They scrambled up from the table and headed for the stairs to the bedrooms.
15
It felt like Christmas when Rose Anna walked into the quilting class later that week.
She and her mudder had found some wonderful new fabric for themselves in Stitches in Time, and even better, they spotted some inexpensive holiday fabric for the class.
Then Leah had added a shopping bag full of fabric she’d saved to donate to the class. So Rose Anna had a full bag in each hand as well as her tote bag and purse. She barely made it up the stairs to the sewing room.
The minute she placed the bags on the front table and announced what she’d brought, the women pounced on it.
The women oohed and aahed over the fabric, and when two reached for the same piece at once, it was so nice to see how quickly each tried to make the other take it.
“Nothing like new fabric,” Betty, one of the new shelter residents said as she admired a fat quarter of fabric printed with spring flowers. “Now wouldn’t this make a nice quilted table runner for our shop?”
“I knew you’d love it,” Rose Anna said with a smile.
Her smile grew wider when Brooke walked in with King and took a seat at the table she liked at the back of the room.
Kate rushed in a few minutes later, apologizing for running a little late.
“Look who’s here,” Rose Anna murmured, tilting her head toward the back of the room.
“It’s good to see Brooke back,” Kate said with a nod. “I think I’ll give her some time to settle in before I go back and talk to her.” She set her tote bag with her quilt project down. “Ah, I see you brought more fabric.”
“Mamm and I took a trip into town the other day. Sort of a mother/daughter day, just the two of us. So, of course, you know what shops we had to visit first.”
“Those days are the best,” Kate said, looking thoughtful. “I love the days my daughter and I can do something together. The last mother/daughter day we had she and I went to a Disney movie and had a fancy lunch out. The guys—Malcolm and our son—had a guy’s day. They went fishing and had hamburgers.”
She pulled out her cell phone and pulled up a calendar. “That was a whole month ago. I need to find the time to plan another. But first, Malcolm and I get to have a date night.”
“A date night? But the two of you are already married.”
Kate grinned. “It’s our way of spending time with each other, of not taking each other for granted. And parents need to get away from their kids sometimes and remember that they’re a couple, too, not just parents. Lots of people are doing it these days. Englisch, I mean.”
Oh, how different the Englisch were from the Amish, Rose Anna couldn’t help thinking. She’d never heard of any couple in her community having a date night, but Amish couples did so much together. Married couples plowed and planted the fields together, often shared child-rearing, attended church services and work frolics, and were seldom apart.
“We’re going to dinner and a movie tonight,” Kate was saying. “I’m hoping I don’t get called into work like last time.”
She turned to Rose Anna. “I’ve seen a certain red truck parked outside your house a lot lately. When I’m on patrol,” she added.
Rose Anna felt herself blush. “John’s a friend.”
“Hmm.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Hmm?”
“If you say so.” She threaded her needle, glanced up at the class happily chatting and sewing, then focused again on her quilt. “Isn’t there a saying about how ‘in the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love’?”
“Who said that?”
“Some British poet. Tennyson, I think. I read it in Freshman English in college.”
“John’s a friend,” she repeated.
Chatter stopped. Brooke stopped at the table where Kate and Rose Anna sat. King stood patiently by her side. “I thought I’d show you my block. I only had to rip the seams out twice this morning.”
“A seam ripper was my best friend when I was learning quilting,” Kate told her. She put her own work down and took Brooke’s block in her hands. “Nice job. Very straight seams.” She showed it to Rose Anna who nodded her approval.
“I’m enjoying the class,” Brooke said. “I didn’t see the point of quilting.” She bit her lip. “Sorry, I don’t mean to offend.”
“You’re not,” Kate assured her. “We’ve heard that more than once, haven’t we, Rose Anna?”
“It was the first thing Carrie, the manager at the shop, said.”
“Well, what I’ve discovered is it relaxes me,” Brooke told them. “I don’t find myself anxiously watching the windows.” She reached down to scratch between King’s ears. “This guy helps, too. And you know, he’s a service dog, but he sure does let me know he’s happy to be with me.”
Indeed Rose Anna could see the adoration in the dog’s eyes as he gazed up at Brooke.
“A friend told me to do like she did and get a dog when my kids become teenagers,” Kate said. “She said we need to have someone happy to see us when we get home.”
“Well, you’ll still have Malcolm,” Rose Anna pointed out.
“But dogs love us so much. I’m not sure there’s a man who loves us as unconditionally.” With a final pat on his head, Brooke turned and walked away.
“She’s probably right,” Kate muttered.
They both watched to see if she’d continue walking on out the door—she’d already stayed far longer than she ever did—but she resumed her seat, and King sprawled under the table.
As Rose Anna sat and sewed, she told herself she was so lucky to have grown up seeing how happy her parents were. Otherwise, she might have wondered if happy relationships only happened in the romance novels she read.
She knew that there were happy marriages in her community, but after hearing about how it had been so different in John’s haus, she knew not to trust the image others showed. It might be just as much of a sham. Well, Amos and Waneta had healed their relationship after he recovered from his cancer but living in that haus, seeing that unhappy relationship, and Amos treating his sons so badly had affected all three men.
David and Sam had managed to recover from it and had happy marriages with her schweschders who had loved them and brought them back to the Amish community.
But John?
“Rose Anna?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you okay? You seem sad.”
“Sometimes it is, here,” she said slowly, quietly. “Why do people have to be so mean?”
“You mean men.”
She sighed. “I suppose I do.”
“It’s hard to understand.” Kate set her quilt down. “I see people victimized all the time.”
“Yet you seem to still believe people can be good.”
“I do. If we don’t, we might as well just give up, don’t you think?”
“I guess so.” She set her quilt down. “I’m going to walk around and see if anyone needs help.”
And shake off this strange mood she seemed to have slipped into.
***
“I want to apologize for my son.”
John turned and saw that Neil had come into the barn.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because he could have been a lot friendlier when the two of you met.”
John shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
Neil sat down on a bale of hay and watched John feed a carrot to Midnight. Willow whinnied and stomped her feet and tried to get his attention.
“I suspect he was a little jealous.”
“Midnight?”
“Brad. He’s always been afraid of horses, so we don’t share my interest. But he comes here and sees that you and I do.”
“I work for you.”
“I told him you’d been a big help to me. Mor
e than just someone working for me.”
John looked at him. “I hope he doesn’t think I’d try to take advantage of you.”
“You mean seeing as how I’m an old man?” Neil grinned.
Appalled, John shook his head. “I don’t think of you as old. You do more than men half your age.”
“Well, that’s a nice thing to say, but fact is, I’m old enough to be your father.”
“Brad’s lucky to have you as his father.”
“How so?”
When John hesitated, Neil waved a hand at him. “Come on, explain.”
“Not everyone has a father who loves his son, encourages him, is proud of him.” Appalled at saying so much, John turned to Willow and fed her a carrot. She took it but turned away from him as if miffed.
“I’m sorry. Rough childhood, huh? Well, I never did think that everyone did. I told you I didn’t. My dad was a mean, unhappy man. Some say it’s a pattern, that a kid who’s abused becomes an abuser. But I think it can be different. I was determined I was going to be different with my son. And I have been.”
He paused. “Did you make up with that sweet girl of yours?”
“I did.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Neil fell silent. It was so quiet they could hear the foal suckling her mother.
“Is she the one?”
“Pardon?”
“You know, is Rose Anna the one you feel is meant for you? Like my Doris was for me.”
John stared at him, not knowing what to say. He wasn’t used to personal questions from those who weren’t family or friends.
But the truth was, he’d become a friend, maybe more. He was the father John would have liked to have had. Maybe that’s why Brad had resented him. He’d sensed the two were more than employer/employee. He wondered what Neil had told Brad . . .
“And don’t say ‘it’s complicated’ the way young people do these days,” Neil said. “You know when a woman’s the one for you, and there shouldn’t be any shilly-shallying around about it.”
“Shilly-shallying?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Some men aren’t sincere with women. They play the field. That’s not you, is it?”
He shook his head and wanted to change the subject, look away from Neil’s direct gaze. But he couldn’t.
“No, I’m not. But no matter what I feel, I don’t have anything to offer her.”
“What nonsense is that? You’re a nice, steady guy. Decent. Hard-working. You have a lot to offer her.”
“I don’t have a farm or a business. I work for other people. Several other people.” Neil knew he had other part-time jobs.
“You think that bothers her?”
John shrugged. “Most Amish men don’t offer marriage unless they can support their wives.”
“That’s what men of my generation used to feel. I’d say you’re old-fashioned, but that’s the way the Amish are about it, huh?”
John nodded.
“How’s your young woman feel about that?”
“I—we haven’t talked about it.”
“But I bet you know how she’d feel about it.”
Rose Anna would say it wasn’t important if he owned a farm. Or a home. Or had his own business.
“Yeah, I see you know,” Neil said with a nod. He pulled out an unlit cigar, put it in his mouth, and looked thoughtful. Then he pulled it out and pointed it at John. “She’s Amish, but what are you, John? Are you Amish or Englisch?”
“I—I haven’t joined the church.”
“So can you get married if you’re not both members of the church?”
“No.”
Neil stood. “Seems I remember weddings only take place here in the fall, after the harvest. So I guess if you have something permanent in mind with that sweet young woman, you need to get a move on. I’m going on up to the house. Ready to have some supper. If you have a mind to join me, I’d enjoy the company.”
He started toward the barn door then turned back, a twinkle in his eyes. “Interrogation’s over.”
John couldn’t help chuckling. He quickly finished up the evening chores and walked up to the house. Neil’s housekeeper always fixed him a nice supper before she left. They ate on tray tables in the living room so Neil could watch a basketball game and get entirely too worked up over his favorite team.
“My alma mater,” he confessed. “They contacted me for a donation. I told them they’d get one when they fired the basketball coach.”
The meal and game over, Neil and John loaded the dishwasher. And then Neil was politely kicking John out.
“Go take Rose Anna for a drive,” he said, opening the back door. “You’re only young once. Don’t waste it.”
John wanted to object, but Neil claimed all he wanted was a book and an early night.
He got into his truck and started for Rose Anna’s and then realized his mood was too uncertain. Neil had made some good points, but things were more complicated than the older man realized. The Englisch didn’t understand the way the Amish thought. Rose Anna had been angry with him for saying Amish maedels sought marriage, but marriage—family—was the cornerstone of the community. She could say what she wished, but if they didn’t marry in the church she’d have only two choices: marry someone else or leave the community to be with him and be shunned.
Rose Anna was too good at reading his moods, so he worried about going to her house. He even got as far as slowing in front of it and then he shook his head, went on with the intention of making a U-turn and heading to his place.
It was just his bad luck to pass his old home and see his mudder sitting out on the porch in a rocking chair.
And even worse luck when she recognized his truck and waved at him.
He wanted to drive on. Oh, how he wanted to drive on. But what could he do? How did you ignore your own mudder and drive on?
So he slowed, pulled into the drive, and parked. He sat there for a long moment trying to figure out what to do and then realized he had no choice. He had to get out and talk to her.
With any luck, his dat wouldn’t come out and get into a discussion with him that would undoubtedly turn into something unpleasant. He shut off the engine, got out, and climbed the steps to the porch.
She pulled a chair closer to hers. “Sit, sit! I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I was heading home after work.”
“You live in the opposite direction.”
He nodded. “Just out for a drive.”
“You were going by Rose Anna’s, weren’t you?” Waneta smiled, looking satisfied. “I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other when you come here to help David or go to Sam’s to help him.”
“Don’t go matchmaking,” he said with more heat than he intended.
She drew back as if he’d slapped her. “I’m sorry.”
Now he felt like a complete heel. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I know it made you happy when Lavina and Mary Elizabeth brought David and then Sam back to the community. But everyone doesn’t get a happy ending.”
Happy ending. That sounded like Rose Anna and the romance novels she loved to read. Did all women see life through rose-colored glasses?
“Look, I’m tired, and my mind was wandering, and I really need to get home, get cleaned up, and get some rest. I worked a lot of hours today.”
“Have you had supper? I can fix you something.”
Pile on the guilt, he thought. He’d bitten off her head, and she was going to feed him.
“Mamm, don’t be nice to me after I snapped at you.” He rubbed at the tension in his neck and muttered under his breath. “Don’t be a doormat.”
“Don’t talk like that!” she said, getting to her feet, her eyes flashing. “I won’t have a sohn of mine talking like that!”
He stared at her. “So, you do have a backbone.”
“I always have,” she told him, her voice firmer than he’d ever hear
d it. “I’ll admit I should have spoken up to your dat sooner, but a fraa doesn’t do that.”
“Even when he mistreats their sohns. Even when he mistreats you. Did you think I didn’t hear the night he struck you? And still you did nothing.”
Her hand flew to her throat and the color drained from her face. A keening cry came from her, one that sounded like a wounded animal. She shook her head, tried to speak but couldn’t seem to form the words. She fled, running into the house. The door slammed behind her, loud as a gunshot.
A moment later David came out. “John? What just happened? What did you say to Mamm?”
“Something I should have said years ago.” He turned and hurried to his truck, starting it and stomping the gas, sending up a flurry of gravel.
Thank goodness there was no one else on the road. He was so miserable he hadn’t stopped to look before he pulled out.
***
“John did what?” Rose Anna stared at Lavina.
“David said he had Waneta in tears.” Lavina plucked a ripe zucchini and added it to the basket beside her. She got to her feet and lifted the basket. “I think this is it for today. The others need another day or two to ripen.”
Rose Anna picked up her basket of vegetables and followed her schweschder into her haus. “What was he doing here anyway? It wasn’t a workday.”
“Nee. It was last night.”
She’d half-hoped John would stop by but he hadn’t. So this is where he was . . .
“So he just walked into the house and picked a fight with her? That doesn’t sound like John.”
They went into the kitchen and set their baskets on a counter. “She was sitting on the front porch getting some fresh air after supper and apparently he was driving past.”
“It’s all so strange.”
“I know. I thought John had a problem with his dat, not his mudder.”
Lavina glanced at the door to the dawdi haus. “I don’t think we should talk about it here.”
“I thought you said Waneta and Amos were at Sam and Mary Elizabeth’s this morning.”
“They are, but I worry they could come back and walk in on us talking about them.” She filled the sink with water and began washing the vegetables. “Get a dish towel out and dry these, will you?”
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